Dear Agony
by xlise
Summary: At first, he was only a figment of his imagination, a part of his dreams. But when he became a reality, things became a lot more complicated. Vincent x Ivan / Romania x Russia Rated M for safety. -ON HIATUS-


**PAIRING: **Ivan x Vincent / Russia x Romania

**RATING: **M for safety.

**AUTHORS: **Memento Morri & Gabriel Mehayel

**DISCLAIMER: **We don't own Ivan, not really. If we did he'd have been with Vincent a lot time ago. x3 But he belongs to those awesome doods who made Hetalia. VINCENT, however, is mine (Morri) so don't steal kthx.

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PREFACE: STRICKEN

The air was still and quiet. When breathed in, it had a sharp, prickly metallic taste, as if chewing on barbs without the real pain and blood. A single forested path stretched for miles behind, and in front, it forked sharply around a decrepit, splintered sign—which had, painted on it crudely, the words, _abandon all hope ye who enter here. _Thick trees lined the pathway that was traveled, but they loomed sinisterly until their emerald branches frothed and webbed together and the sky, whether it still existed or not, was invisible. The trunks of these trees were warped and crumpled, with what seemed to be wicked smiles carved jaggedly into the wood.

Altogether, a sinister place.

Ivan woke up to find himself planted in such an area, having been propped against the broken sign. It poked and nicked at his back, even through his clothing, and he visibly winced. Everything in this place was far more real than his life had been. He had been numbed to the vapid reality in which he had been born, but this—this was so much more than that had been. He felt as if every nerve in his body was alive and on fire.

Darkness swallowed the area, making every single movement magnified sevenfold. The rustle of distant music through the trees, the flutter of an unseen creature through the woods. Ivan stood and swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the bloody taste in his mouth. It was useless; it remained thick and he couldn't forget it. The more he tried to get rid of it, the more it felt like he was drowning.

Hee took a tentative step away from the sign, turning back to look at it, and swallowed again. The drowning feeling was starting to subside a bit, ebbing away slowly as he moved. He took a deep lungful of the tainted air and looked around at the world that seemed to be darkening by the minute. And then, there was something that gave him some relief and wonder; a luminescent butterfly, fluttering softly on an invisible breeze, rested lightly on the bare finger he offered it. It flickered it golden, glowing wings softly and sunk deep, carnivorous teeth into his skin.

The pain was sharp and insistent, throbbing viciously through his veins. Ivan let out a cry, waving his hand frantically to rid it of the butterfly, watching as it fluttered away in annoyance to find easier prey. Crimson welled from his finger, dropped to the ground, and sizzled and burned. He whimpered and encased his bleeding finger in his hand, trying to stop the bleeding but reluctant to put the wounded digit in his mouth. The wound continued to bleed profusely, and Ivan sat back down.

He was surprised it had hurt this much. He was used to pain—effortlessly so, because he'd been wounded without having to try before. But this; this small little nick on his finger, was _burning. _It felt like the carnivorous butterfly, deceptive in its delicate appearance, had in all actuality tore away the flesh of his finger and gnawed on the bone. Instead, there were two small dots from which his blood was seeping. It was both infuriating and wounding to see himself crumple at the hands—er, fangs—of a butterfly.

Where was he? Amidst a new Hell, perhaps? He scowled at his bleeding finger, still cradling it in his other hand, when he heard the soft sound of a man's voice. He seemed to be speaking, or—or maybe humming? Ivan couldn't tell. All he could hear was a noise that resembled that of a voice, and he couldn't have been more relieved. If this was a nightmare, he might have found a fellow companion. Although, suffice to say that he had never had a nightmare this realistic.

Ivan sighed thickly. Hopefully he wouldn't die of blood loss in his dream, because wouldn't _that _be a way to go? He wryness drifted away a bit as he realized that the humming or whatever it had been had stopped, and that he was now alone again. So much for finding an accomplice; now he was left, standing at a fork in the road (literally) unsure of what to do and bleeding. Profusely.

He paced for a while, feeling a little light headed and even a bit dizzy from his loss of blood. He angrily swatted away another few butterflies that came his way and pushed his fingers through his hair. He licked his dry lips and paced some more, unsure of what to do now that he was in his horrible mood.

_Well, there's got to be something I can do, _he tried to reason as he went right. _And even if I can't, then it's just a dream, right? Only a dream, that's all! So everything will be fine once I wake up. Yeah, everything will be fine._

He turned and was about to go back to his previous spot from pacing when he nearly ran into something. He stopped short and glanced up, surprised and wary to find a man standing before him. Those mild feelings, however, soon melted away to instead reveal feelings of relaxation and relief.

The man was lean, tall, and in a way almost spindly. His hair was a midnight black, like that of ink and Ivan felt his throat close up in an instant, his body stiffening at the red eyes that stared back at him. Those lips quirked at him ever so slightly, a warm red, and he felt something kindle inside him at the sight of the man.

Though unimaginably beautiful in his eyes, the man before him scared him in ways that were both horrid and ever so heavenly. He looked like a fallen angel against the backdrop of the dark forest that swallowed them.

A demon hiding behind the twisted face of an angel.

It was as if the man before him had taken all his relaxation and relief and turned it into something even he did not understand.

"Hello, _Vanya_~…"

The voice was the smoothest sound he had ever heard. A slight drawl, but otherwise wonderful and horrible all the same, rang and tore at his ears.

He felt as if he wanted to scream and cry all at once.

"I've been looking for you, you know…"

The Russian felt his heart tear in terror at the man's words. Why him? Why not someone else? He felt a soft shuddering of breath pass his lips that he realized was a sigh of thanking relief. Why did he feel so horribly shaken, yet so happy to see him, as if they were old companions coming back to see each other over long years of absence?

The hand that trailed from the man's clothing, a simple white shirt and dress pants with shoes to match, was long, thin, elegant, feminine, yet masculine, and they looked like a musician's hands.

A violinist perhaps?

Offering his hand. That's what he was doing. The slight shift of the man's upper body and he glanced up quickly to catch it, watching the movement as smoothly as water. He had tilted his head toward his side, picking up his shoulder in something of a slight encouraging movement.

If he grasped this hand, what would happen?

If he _didn't_ what would happen?

He took the hand with shaky resolve.

There was nothing else he could do right?

His heart wouldn't allow it.

With a gentle squeeze that he felt against his hand, he shifted up slightly and stood, realizing that he towered over the man by a few inches. Still, with that look in those ruby red eyes and the way that they held him, he felt as if the man before him was taller, stronger, and more powerful.

"Your mine now~…"

The voice was soft, sweet, casual, as if speaking about everyday things with someone he knew well.

"You can call me Vincent, Vanya~…"

Those ruby eyes glanced back at him; he felt himself flush up like a child caught doing something bad and he simply nodded his head.

Ivan didn't know how long they walked or how far. All he knew was that he had been led by the man through the forest, through the darkness, away from the carnivorous dangers of the shadows. It was only until they came upon a wrought iron gate and fence that he noticed, for the loud sound of creaking metal upon metal, that they had arrived.

The path past the gate that the man led him through looked almost like the cathedrals of his home. The usual curved towers were stunted and pointier, but shifted inwards to fit. He stared in awe as they came closer to the building, and only looked forward once more once they had stepped in.

The room was in a way large, yet cozy, and a fire was burning in a nearby fireplace. Vincent patted his head once they had stepped in, having set him down by the hearth.

Ivan felt as if he was being scalded and warmed all at once. His body was shivering everywhere to try and gain the warmth of the heat that was bestowing itself upon his form and he just barely caught the perfect and sinful man disappearing into the nearby room. From what he heard, he assumed it to be the kitchen.

The sharp clatter of cups and porcelain and a few minutes later the sweet whistle of a tea kettle stuck in his ears and for a moment, he felt as if he was home again.

He shifted and stretched, only then realizing, in his new warmth, in his new place, under the man's care, that as soon as they had parted the touches of hands, the burning sensation in his finger returned and he felt as if he was being scorched all over again.

The man appeared as if his pain was what had summoned him and he set aside the tea for a moment. Ivan blinked, startled, and was about to open his mouth to say something to the man only to blink at the sudden warmth he felt as lips pressed against his finger. There was a sudden heat, warm and soothing, of a wet tongue pressed against the two small wounds that plagued his finger.

He flushed hard, feeling himself shift for a moment uncomfortably, only to feel the sudden roaming hand against his thinly-covered chest.

He glanced quickly, locking gazes with Vincent; Ivan's eyes wide and embarrassed, and Vincent's sly, watching and taking in everything as his mouth pulled away. He coyly began pressing a trail of kisses about his wrist with smoothness that it was quite distracting.

It just barely registered that the bite didn't hurt anymore.

The heat from the fire seemed to take upon his body even more. Ivan noted the way that the man was slowly pushing up his sleeve to press kiss after fluttering kiss to his arms before Vincent had pressed closer to him and his lips traced his pulse.

The moment that happened, he felt a soft sound try to pass through his lips, but he held it back, only to startle and given a sudden yelp at the way he had suddenly nipped at his throat. He gave a soft whimper, unable to help himself.

"Now, now, Vanya, you need to learn…"

The voice was chillingly smooth in his ear, frightening in the way those lips just barely brushed against the shell of his ear.

"-_You're mine~…"_

Ivan felt a chill run down his burning spine and he promptly let out the sound, if not a tad bit embarrassedly at the next smooth and sensual kiss placed to his jaw.

He didn't know how long it had been going on with the way Vincent was pressing against him, letting his lips and fingers roam.

All he knew was by the time the man had reached the pant line on his body, he was panting, giving more than loud moans, and he felt as if his skin had been set aflame and Vincent was the wildfire that had done it.

Those lips had trailed down his bare chest -when had his shirt got unbuttoned?- and then they were so achingly close to the heat that he was dying from, from where all of it was pooling easily that he thought he might go insane.

He had blinked open lavender eyes to stare down at those rubies, at the man who had blood for eyes, and felt his heart seize up in the moment.

It when that tongue had begun to trail on the pale white stomach hair, at his abdomen, that he startled from the dream world and promptly fell into a disheveled pile on the floor beside his bed, the early morning light just barely passing through his heavy curtains.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he remembered that he had a United Nations meeting today.

He would need to get ready.

He stared up at the ceiling for the briefest of moments, and then glanced over at the sound of footsteps coming to his door. The door was pushed open without a care and there stood his lovely, though sometimes frightening, younger sister, so beautiful with her long silvery blonde hair and his own lavender-violet eyes staring back at him in worried concern.

He sat up, shifting for a moment as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Brother? Are you well? I heard you fall…"

Her voice was sweet, gentle, and for a moment, he was reminded of spring days under willow tree with the carefree breeze of flowers in the air. Behind her he heard the shuffle of feet and warm emerald-pine eyes stared back at him in slight concern. Toris was always there to look after him, da?

The man shifted in his mass of blankets and waved a hand at them, just barely hearing the soft mumble of his other house-mate, a short and rather jumpy character with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"I'm fine…" he replied softly, unable to bring himself to speak any louder. "It was only a dream…"

His sister stared at him doubtfully, before he waved her off good-naturedly.

She went off in a huff and Ivan could hear the faint of quickly shuffling feet and a bare yelp as Natalia passed Raivis on her way down the stairs. Toris straightened up slightly, as if building up courage.

"Would you like me to make you some tea then?"

His voice was soft, but not like his sister's, the gentlest movements of tenderness that was filled with scared respect, and Ivan blinked his violet eyes at the man before giving him a small grateful nod.

Toris, without another word, nodded his head and shut the door behind him.

The Russian heard the faint mutterings coming from the other side of the door and then, the pair headed off downstairs.

He glanced up at the ceiling again, almost as if expecting Vincent to be floating about on some imaginary cloud, peering down at him mockingly.

He stood and, with a quick toss of the blankets onto the bed, he turned and headed off to the bathroom.

He needed a good cold shower.

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MORRI: YAY WE GOT IT DONE. ajskhdkajsdhkasjd ;A; I love this so much. x3 I'm also UBER excited for it. This first preface was... A bitch to write, honestly. I started writing it halfway and then I was like. "Lol Gabby your turn. ._." So she finished it off beautifully for me and HERE we are. Editting was the funnest part, I think. So I hope you guys like this!

GABBY: Hello Darlings~! Hope everyone had a nice time reading! I hope to see what you guys think of this story! I helped out with making this with my dear friend, and hope you guys enjoyed it! Iit was actually quite fun to do this and I am proud of the end result of both of our parts in this! Have fun, luvs~! Bi Bi~


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